


All Mixed Up

by Pargcool



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bartenders, Never done this before, Panic Attacks, Tags Are Hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26078050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pargcool/pseuds/Pargcool
Summary: You’ve got to be kidding me.Hermione froze, her eyes fixed on the back of the man wiping down the bar counter. Lydia—according to her name tag—didn’t seem to notice her sudden lack of attention and continued her introductory spiel.The words faded into the background, Hermione’s gaze narrowing on the back of the bartender’s head. She’d only seen that bright platinum hair once before, but surely it was just a coincidence. What the hell would Draco Malfoy be doing in a random muggle bar?
Comments: 10
Kudos: 41
Collections: July - September Mad Frankenstein Fest 2020





	All Mixed Up

**Author's Note:**

> First ever written work on Ao3, hope you guys enjoy! No beta, so there's likely going to be a few little errors, sorry!
> 
> Amazing illustration done by the equally amazing Aster_Notz.

_You’ve got to be kidding me._

Hermione froze, her eyes fixed on the back of the man wiping down the bar counter. Lydia—according to her name tag—didn’t seem to notice her sudden lack of attention and continued her introductory spiel.

The words faded into the background, Hermione’s gaze narrowing on the back of the bartender’s head. She’d only seen that bright platinum hair once before, but surely it was just a coincidence. What the hell would Draco Malfoy be doing in a random muggle bar? He’d been holed up in the Manor with his mother for years now.

“This is our lead bartender. He’ll be in charge of showing you the ropes.” Lydia leaned on the counter, rapping her knuckles on the wood.

Part of Hermione wanted to run before she could see his face, but she forced herself to stand her ground. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. The thoughts sounded weak even to her, and they died when he finally turned around.

Pointy, aristocratic features, sharp grey eyes that filled with shock when they saw her. Hermione hadn’t seen him since she spoke at his trial, bony and sunken eyed. The man in front of her was still skinny, but it was more of an athlete’s build than the weak, starved frame at the trial. He didn’t have the bulky muscles of a bodybuilder, but she could see his strength in the forearms revealed by his rolled up sleeves. He wasn’t the scared boy she remembered at the final fight, being hustled away by his parents.

They looked at each other silently until Lydia interrupted, glancing between them curiously.

“Do you two know each other?”

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but Hermione beat him to it, steeling herself.

“We’ve met.”

Lydia nodded slowly, backing up.

“We open in an hour.” She looked like she had more to say, but instead just shook her head and walked away.

Hermione walked behind the counter, looking over the different bottles and stations, committing them to memory so she didn’t have to do any searching later. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into the back of her head.

Finally, she straightened and turned to face him, putting her hands on her hips.

“What?”

“What are you doing here, Granger? What happened to saving the house elves?”

Hermione stiffened. This was an argument she’d had for weeks, first with herself and then with Harry and Ron.

“I decided to take a small break for reasons that do not concern you. Besides, I should be asking you that. What are you doing in the middle of Muggle London?”

Malfoy scowled and crossed his arms.

“I would have thought the Brightest Witch of Our Age could figure that out. I’m here to bartend. And apparently now I have to teach you. Sure this is the right spot for you? Have you ever even drank before?”

Hermione bristled. Even Harry had asked that when he’d heard about her plans. Just because she didn’t enjoy partying, people always assumed she didn’t like fun at all.

“I’m surprised you got a job at all, especially serving muggles. Aren’t you afraid they’ll contaminate your precious Malfoy skin?”

His nostrils flared, grey eyes going stormy.

“I don’t believe in that nonsense anymore. You should know that, you testified at my trial.”

“I testified that you had the chance to turn us in and you didn’t, I said nothing about your personal beliefs. And how exactly am I supposed to think differently? After all, you did spend more than 5 years of your life tormenting me and my friends!”

She paused, aware of exactly how loud they’d gotten with muggles in the other room.

“Now, you may not know this, given you’ve never had to work a day in your life, but we do have actual responsibilities.”

She turned away from him and went back to under the counter, glancing at labels and instruments to get a feel for things.

A few seconds passed in silence, with the only sound being her shifting bottles.

“I’m sorry.” The words were quiet, hardly more than a mumble.

Hermione stopped her examination of the bar, looking back at him.

“What?” Surely she’d heard him wrong. Draco Malfoy didn’t apologize to anyone.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the taunting, all the insults and names I called you. I’m sorry for hurting you and your friends. I’m sorry for fighting on the wrong side in the war. I’m sorry for standing by while you were tortured on the floor of my house.” He swallowed, his throat bobbing.

“I should have apologized a long time ago, and I know that there’s nothing I can say or do to change the past, but, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. For everything I did and everything you had to go through.”

For once in her life, Hermione didn’t know what to say. Somehow, this was even more surprising than seeing him working in a muggle bar. She just nodded and turned away from him.

Luckily, it was only a few more minutes before the bar opened and customers began to fill up the room. Hermione was mostly focused on herself and keeping up with the orders she was getting, but she kept an eye on Malfoy out of the corner of her eye.

Annoyingly enough, he was actually quite good at his job. He got the drinks out quickly and smoothly, with little bits of flair that made the customers laugh and grin. She worked as fast as she could without getting sloppy and he still got drinks ready three times as fast without even seeming to try.

She kept looking for his wand, sure he had to be using magic somehow, but he seemed to be doing everything like a muggle.

The customers kept them busy, and the night went relatively smoothly.

The next one went the same. They avoided talking until the bar opened and worked on opposite sides, barely even having to acknowledge the other.

And the next, and the one after that. They developed a routine consisting of mutual indifference, pretending they were just coworkers. Malfoy even gave her a few tips, showing her how to speed up her drinks and earn a few extra tips while doing so.

Everything was going smoothly, if not a bit awkwardly, until a few weeks in.

Hermione had been attempting one of his tricks, holding the shaker up high and trying to fill up multiple glasses without spilling. Malfoy reached out to correct the angle she was holding it, wrapping his fingers around her forearm.

Her mind blanked out, consumed by high-pitched laughter and the phantom pain of a knife digging into her arm.

The sound of the shaker clattering to the floor brought her back partially, but she could still hear shrill screams echoing through the room.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll clean that up.” Even as she said it, Hermione was backing away, first slowly, then running out of the bar through the backdoor. She caught a glimpse of Draco as she left, his hands raised by his sides and his mouth open. Then the door swung shut behind her, leaving her alone in the alleyway.

She took a deep breath, hoping the fresh air would clear her head, but the air caught in her throat. Her vision went blurry, her eyes filled with tears. When she lifted her hands to wipe them away, she saw they were shaking. The sight made her legs gave out beneath her, and she slid down the brick wall.

The sounds around her faded out until all Hermione could hear was her heartbeat, racing in her chest. And she’d been doing so well, had even gone a few nights without nightmares. All it took was one touch to undo all of that, send her spiraling back into her memories.

There was someone crouching in front of her, his hand hovering inches above her arm as if he was scared to touch her.

Malfoy. And he was saying something.

“Granger? Granger, can you listen to my voice?”

She slowly nodded and opened her mouth to respond, but all that came out was a choked sob.

“Don’t say anything, just listen to me. Listen to my voice. I want you to take a big breath in, can you do that for me?”

Another nod, then a slow breath in.

“Good. Keep breathing, in and out. With me, okay?”

Hermione watched him, mimicking his breaths until she stopped hyperventilating. Merlin, a panic attack in front of her childhood bully, and he’d been the one to help her calm down. She could see the concern in his eyes and didn’t want to talk about what had just happened, so instead she just said the first thing that came to mind.

“Where’d you learn how to help someone through a panic attack?” Her voice was hoarse, but at least she could talk without crying now.

Malfoy sighed and sat next to her, still leaving space between them.

“My mother. She started having them after my father had been sentenced and refused to let any of the house elves come near her.”

Hermione nodded, drumming her fingers on her thighs to try and ignore the fact that they were still shaking slightly.

“Does that”--his voice was hesitant, like he was afraid he would spook her--”have anything to do with why you took a break from the wizarding world?”

Hermione nodded after a moment, a quick jerk of the chin.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

With him, right now?

“Not really. Can we just go back inside and pretend all of this never happened?”

He watched her, pointy features softened slightly by his expression.

“Of course. But if you ever want to talk… I know a good bar with nice quiet corners.” Without saying anything else, he stood up and headed back inside.

She watched him go, thinking that the man striding away from her was truly nothing like the boy from school. He had changed, and Hermione was starting to think this new Draco Malfoy might be someone worth keeping around.

Who knows? Maybe they’d even become friends.


End file.
